"I don't know, Ma'am," said Margery; "I've heard that said afore, but I can't say as I ever could see it. He always was the same to me always the honourablest, truest, noblest my husband says he was a bit fiery, but I never could tell that the one temper was sweeter than the other; only everybody always did whatever Mr. John wanted, to be sure; but he was the perfectest gentleman always."
"I have not seen either Mr. John or Ellen since my mother came," said Mrs. Chauncey.
"No, Ma'am," said Margery, "they were out reading under the trees for a long time; and Miss Ellen came in the kitchen way a little while ago, and went to lie down."
"How is Mr. Humphreys?"
"Oh, I can't tell you, Ma'am he is worse than any one knows of, I am afraid, unless Mr. John; you will not see him, Ma'am; he has not been here once, nor don't mean to, I think. It will go hard with my poor master, I am afraid," said Margery, weeping; "dear Miss Alice said Miss Ellen was to take her place; but it would want an angel to do that."
"Ellen will do a great deal," said Mrs. Vawse; "Mr. Humphreys loves her well now, I know."
"So do I, Ma'am, I am sure; and so does every one; but still "
Margery broke off her sentence, and sorrowfully went downstairs. Mrs. Chauncey moved no more flowers.
Late in the afternoon of the next day Margery came softly into
Ellen's room.
"Miss Ellen, dear, you are awake, aren't you?"